


Four Turns

by Frumpologist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Time Travel AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-17 02:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21047030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frumpologist/pseuds/Frumpologist
Summary: Hermione can’t let the past lie.





	Four Turns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VinoAmore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VinoAmore/gifts).

> A very happy birthday to one beautiful soul: Vino Amore! I hope you have a wonderful day, gorgeous! Thank you for being you! <3

_ One turn _…

His lean body stood cast in moonlight, with the shadow of the castle looming in the distance.

A flask dangled from his oversized robes. He held a wooden cane in one hand.

He drank from the flask and his body shifted. No longer tall and lean, but stout and brick-like.

  
It wasn’t right. Not yet. Too late. Far, far too late.

She frowned, desperate to reach out to him and yet, she knew better.

Not yet. It wasn’t time.

_ Two turns… _

Dirty, mucky walls caged him in.

His mind was gone. He belted out screams into the night, when he thought no one could hear.

She heard. Every cry, every shout.

Her name fell from his lips only once.

But it was too late. Still, and painstakingly, too late.

Her hand clenched against the stone wall as she forced herself to turn away from him.

Again. Over and over, she had to walk away.

Not yet. It wasn’t time.

_ Three turns… _

Her heart cracked in half. His laughter, wicked and dark, washed over her.

Still too late. Fuck; she hadn’t realized just how long he’d been broken.

His magic surrounded her. It permeated the air. Crackled and struggled against hers.

She watched as he did terrible things. And, her heart broke.

Over and over and over again. She sobbed, a single, desperate sound in the dark.

She thought she saw his eyes flash towards her. But then nothing.

He threw an Unforgivable Curse. And she left.

Not yet. It wasn’t time.

_ Four turns… _

He sat alone in the Three Broomsticks. Long, slender fingers tapping against the cool side of a tumbler as he stared into its amber depths. His hair was short, cropped around the ears, and dark against his tanned skin.

She approached him carefully. A hand around his shoulder. A sad, lost smile tugging at her lips.

He turned, danger flashed in his eyes. His hand moved towards his pocket; his wand. She flinched.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” she promised him quietly.

His eyes moved from hers down to the hand on his shoulder. He paused at the ring that sat on her finger, diamond glinting in the firelight of the pub.

“Who’re you?” The spicy scent of whiskey floated between them and made her eyes water. “What’d you want?”

“My name is Hermione Granger,” she said, slowly withdrawing her hand from him. She took up a seat next to him at the bar. “I’ve searched a lifetime for you, Bartemius Crouch.”

“Is this a joke?” his eyes moved about the room, looking for something. Hermione sucked her lips between her teeth and shook her head when he finally glanced at her again. “What do you mean, you’ve searched a lifetime? I’ve always been here.”

“My love, you haven’t.” The endearment fell from her lips and he breathed out hard.

“Your _ love _?” He snorted into his drink. “I don’t have a love. You’re either pissed, or you’ve found the wrong man.”

“I have found the wrong man three times before.” Her hand moved to the fringe at his forehead and she swept it away before he jerked out of her touch. “You once told me, a very long time ago, that I’d have to fight for you. And for us.”

“I’ve never seen you a day in my life,” he whispered, face paling even as her lips lifted into a knowing smile. “Who are you?”

“In my third year at Hogwarts, I had a time-turner.” She lifted the little golden object up between them and watched the way his eyes sparkled. “I turned it too many times, and I wound up in a broom closet with a scared little boy whose father never saw his worth.”

She watched his throat bob, the planes of his neck constricted. He reached out, a finger tugged on her relaxed curls. She wasn’t the same swot she’d been all those years ago, and yet, as his eyes flicked between hers, the realization shone on his face.

“Gryffindor. You were the Gryffindor girl? But you look so different.” He finished his drink but never took his eyes from her. “I waited for you to come back.”

“There was a lot happening after third year.” Her eyes clouded over, sadness stuck to her like melted tape. “But I saw you again, and you weren’t the same. I was scared for you… possibly of you.”

“What did I do?” He caught on fast, tongue swiping out and rolling over his bottom lip.

“You’ve died.” Tears sprang to her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “After years of causing nothing but pain to those around you, you finally fucking died.”

Barty inhaled, his eyes darkening. “I waited for you, little Gryffindor.”

“And here I am,” she whispered, her hand finding his and holding tight. “You saved me once, and I owe you a Wizard’s Debt.”

“You owe me nothing.” But even as he spoke the words, his eyes greedily danced across her face, looking for any hint as to what she would give him.

“I’m going to save you now, Barty.” Her fingers tangled with his, and she gave him a small, hopeful smile.

“How?” He was so close, just as he’d been in that broom closet all those years ago.

He’d been her first kiss, her first crush, her first love. A full year with him, all crashed down around her. And when she’d left, and returned to her third year, her heart stayed with him.

“I’m a very determined witch, Bartemius.” Her smile mimicked his. “It’s been a very long time, my love, but will you please allow me to steer you down a different path than the one I’ve watched you on all these years?”

“If I say no—”

Her heart clenched.

“—do I see you again?”

She nodded; tears building up in her stinging eyes. She’ll never see him like this again, though. This handsome man on a precipice. His thumb ran over her knuckles before bringing them gently to his lips.

“What is it I’ve done to _ you _, Gryffindor?” It was barely a whisper, a breath filled with concern.

“I won’t tell you,” she said, shaking her head and wishing that the heat in her hand from his kiss would wash all her painful memories away. It didn’t. “If I tell you exactly what you’ve done, it’ll ruin everything.”

“You’ve been gone for years.” He ran his free hand through his short hair. His eyes finally dipped away from her. “I’m a very different man now.”

“I’m a very different girl now.”

Those eyes, dark and glinting, found hers again. He nodded his chin, lips a thin, wet line. “Alright, Gryffindor. Make me better than I could be.”

Though her smile was forced now, her heart beat a rhythm for hope.

Hermione roped the chain around his neck and felt his hand slide around her waist. She stole a deep breath and stared into his eyes.

“Four turns should do it.”

And they were gone from that place. Neither could possibly know what they would return to in a world without Lord Voldemort.


End file.
